


Skinny Love

by saunatonttu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/F, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5456663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunatonttu/pseuds/saunatonttu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yachi Hitoka adores her coworker, Shimizu Kiyoko, and she might just die from being near such extravagant amazingness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skinny Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallingjaegers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingjaegers/gifts).



> Hello, recipient! I initially intended to fill all your requests, but university kicked my ass in the end, so I only ended up having time for kiyachi, so I hope you'll enjoy this one.

Hitoka has been working there for two months and three days without dying, which she counts as an impressive feat considering the people she has to work with. They're not _bad_ people, even though there's this one person that looks like he'd belong in a street gang with his tousled up hair that sticks out in random directions. There's also a person that is intimidatingly _tall_ — very much like the street gang member, but this one is lankier and attitude more reserved and thus scarier.

At least Kiyoko-san is there to make it all better so that Hitoka's poor innocent mind doesn't collapse from fright while in the presence of two tall guys.

Kuroo-san and Tsukishima-kun aren't bad people, though. She knows this from the short conversations she's had with them and from the ones she's listened in on absentmindedly. (She didn't mean to!)

Those two months and three days have taught Hitoka much not only about flowers but herself as well. The most important thing? Oh, it's not big deal, really — only that she has a ginormous crush on Kiyoko-san, who works mostly in the back of the shop due to personal preference. Hitoka's almost glad for it, because if Kiyoko-san worked with her behind the counter, Hitoka just might implode from the giddy nervousness that flutters through her system whenever Kiyoko as much as looks at her.

"Yacchan," Kuroo often says with his low drawl, quiet enough to not attract any attention from Tsukishima, who's just as often arranging flowers into a different position, fingers obsessively tapping at the pot they're holding. "I notice you've been doin' a lot of starin' lately."

The conversation begins like that every time, and it never ceases to bring flustered flush onto Hitoka's face.

Today is by no means an exception to the rule. Kuroo loves to tease Hitoka as much as he loves to tease Tsukishima, and Hitoka feels guilty for wanting the other blond to be the victim of Kuroo's words instead of her.

But no.

"Kuroo-san," she interjects gently, "this is getting rather old." She pretends to not hear the stutter in her voice.

"Hey, I'm rooting for you, you know? I know the pain of pining all too well."

"You do?" Kuroo seems like the type that wouldn't have any trouble getting together with the person of his interest, but maybe Hitoka has read too much into it.

"Yes, my young Padawan," Kuroo strokes at his cleanshaven chin, warm gold-tinted eyes scrunching up into a smile. "I do."

Tsukishima snorts derisively from not too far away, which leads to Kuroo moaning about how the youth these days is full of skeptics.

_Isn't he only two years older than Tsukishima-kun and I?_

Hitoka shakes her head and stifles a giggle behind her hand. She does like her coworkers, even though they're both a bit odd and intimidating in some ways.

*

Wednesday mornings Hitoka opens the shop with Kiyoko. Those are the days Kuroo and Tsukishima don't come in until Hitoka's shift is over, and the days when Hitoka sweats like a participant of the Tour de France that she watches every year.

Kiyoko has a face comparable to finest art works and kindness that matches her looks, and Hitoka wonders what good she has done in her past to deserve the company of a goddess.

"Hitoka-chan?" Kiyoko catches her stare, blinking in worry as Hitoka stiffens in surprise. "You look tense."

"Huh? Oh, I just didn't sleep well last night," Hitoka grins sheepishly, though her face burns from embarrassment as she fiddles with her fingers and tries not to glance around, which would raise suspicion. The confession of her feelings, which she has practiced often before a mirror, echoes through her mind. _I like you, Kiyoko-san; no, actually, it's much more than that — I admire you, I think you are beautiful, I want to stay in your radiance for as long as possible, but then again, that might get me killed since surely you have fans that would go so far as to kill the little old me—_

Well, it's not like Hitoka has ever claimed her mind to be as neatly arranged and in check as her notes from high school were.

Kiyoko looks worried, though: her brows knit together, her pretty face twisting into an expression of genuine concern. "Hitoka-chan, if you are not feeling well, you can and should take the day off."

"No, no!" Hitoka hurries to reassure Kiyoko as they enter the shop from the backdoor, Kiyoko's finger flicking the lights on before shutting the door behind the two of them. "I'm just a little tired, but it's nothing cafe au lait won't fix."

Kiyoko laughs, lips curling up in a gentle smile. "Perhaps we should have gone to the closest Starbucks before coming here, then. I wouldn't mind some coffee myself."

"I can run and get us some?" Hitoka suggests, grinning from ear to ear at the chance to help Kiyoko out, even though coffee is a relatively small matter. It _could_ be a big matter, though! Sometimes a cup of caffeinated drink makes all the difference.

"That would help a lot," Kiyoko agrees and hums lightly as she writes down her order on a sticky note that she hands over to Hitoka. Their fingers bump against each other, and Hitoka's heart bursts into flames.

Figuratively speaking. It would be bad if her heart spontaneously combusted.

It might as well have, though.

Hitoka can still feel the touch of Kiyoko's fingers against hers when she rushes out of the shop and into the cold streets of mid-December morning.

*

She realizes upon entering the coffee shop that she has lost the sticky note she had folded in her pocket. Naturally, she panics and nearly dies when her turn comes to present her order. She's twenty-two, taking a semester off from university, she definitely shouldn't get tongue-tied at the counter of a café, but that's exactly what happens.

At least the barista is nice enough, though he seems a little too energetic for such an early morning.

"A cafe au lait and a frapuccino?" he asks, orange hair looking even brighter under the lights. Hitoka nods and this time manages a short, clipped laugh at her own clumsiness with words.

"To go?"

Hitoka nods again. Even though it's on her mind, she can't bring herself to ask how a middle schooler got to work in Starbucks. _Silly, he can't be a middle schooler, even if he is rather short._

The name tag on his chest says _Hinata Shouyou_ , she notices when she retrieves her order a couple moments later.

"Thanks, Hinata-kun," she grins, and he throws her a thumbs-up.

"Good luck at work today, Yachi-san," he says back, winking before turning back towards another barista, whose face seems to be stuck on a perpetually bored expression. The yellowish-gold irises shine when Hinata starts to ramble, and Hitoka catches a glimpse of fondness that flutters beneath the surface.

_Ah, is this what Kuroo-san calls youth?_

*

"I'm sorry, Kiyoko-san," Hitoka whimpers softly. "I guess the note fell from my pocket when I wasn't looking—"

"It's fine, Hitoka-chan," Kiyoko reassures her, gently brushing the back of her hand against Hitoka's, whose skin tingles in reaction to the sudden warmth of the other. "Besides, I only asked you to bring some for me, since you wouldn't have gone just for yourself."

Hitoka's face burns hotter than the flames of Hell, or so it feels like. "Kiyoko-san—"

Kiyoko takes a sip from the frapuccino, her expression as calm and soothing as angel's. Hitoka has been blessed from the heavens above, and she's not even Christian.

Perhps it's Amaterasu?

Either way, Hitoka only barely manages to not faint on the spot.

*

That Wednesday goes by slowly, though there's much to admire in the decorated shop. Christmas colors drown the usual pale palette, rich red embracing the forest green. Even the smell is more Christmassy, and Hitoka likes the pine-like scent that hovers in the air.

The only thing that's missing is the smell of baked goods, but Hitoka doesn't really mind it much as she takes care of the few customers that come by, spreading snow inside the shop in the wake of their feet.

Hitoka hums along to the English Christmas songs that come up in the station Kiyoko has selected in the radio, when Kiyoko surprises her again by coming out from the backroom, a mischievous smile twinkling mostly in her eyes.

"Kiyoko-san?"

"I see Kuroo really did set up some mistletoe."

"Huh?"

Kiyoko points at the ceiling, where something distinctly green is stuck. "Mistletoe — or holly, I suppose."

"Eh? Eh? Eeeehhhhh?" Hitoka's glad she's not holding anything, because surely she would have dropped it if she had!

Kiyoko's dark hair looks luminescent under the Christmas lights Kuroo set up a day or two before, and her teasing smile even sexier than the mole near her mouth.

_Woah, woah, give me time to process—_

Kiyoko seems amused by the color that spreads onto the entirety of Hitoka's face. "Hitoka-chan, we don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's not that I don't want to!" Hitoka all but screeches. "But what if our customers murder me!"

"—huh?" Kiyoko looks a bit befuddled by the yelled-out question, her eyebrows riding high on her forehead.

Hitoka really wants to kiss her.

"Erm," she fumbles with her words, "I mean— yes, Kiyoko-san, I would love to— I mean, I love _you—_ errrrr—-"

Kiyoko's laughter is like an anime opening — it's sure to get stuck in Hitoka's head. And although that simile is as embarrassing and god-awful as they come, it still rings true to Hitoka as she stares at Kiyoko in awe.

Oh, dear.

"It's alright," Kiyoko tells her as her fingers sweep back Hitoka's sun-yellow fringe. "I feel the same way."

The kiss itself isn't the fireworks. Rather, it's the knowledge that Kiyoko likes her back that makes Hitoka dizzy and disoriented like she is after a fireworks show during the New Year.

Though, the kiss is very good. One of the best Hitoka's ever had. Probably one of the best she wll ever have, and it doesn't have anything to do with their technique or how seamlessly their lips fit together. It's the bursting emotion that tingles inside her that makes it, as well as the weeks and months worth of pining that have preceded this moment.

Hitoka must be dreaming — she must be...

*

 _Congrats, sugar butt,_ a text message from Kuroo is there to greet here when she wakes up on Thursday morning... noon, actually. Welp. Perhaps the adrenaline rush from yesterday had worn her out more than she realized.

 _How do you even know?_ Hitoka wonders in her reply that she sends still in the dizziness of first five minutes after waking up. It's also because of the said dizziness that she instinctively assumes Kuroo to mean what happened with Kiyoko. He  _did_ set up those plants, after all. 

Kuroo is surprisingly quick to respond. Oh, he must be at work. _Kiyoko's not here, so I figured she must have gone home with you yesterday. Tsukki said I had no evidence, but ha!_

Another message arrives. _Please tell me I'm right, Yacchan._

Hitoka's heart skyrockets as she recalls the previous day: the kiss, the date, the everything in between and after. Oh, god. Kiyoko's sleeping in the living room on the sofa — gosh, why didn't Hitoka insist on taking the sofa instead?

Hitoka's nerves crumble as she wanders to the kitchenette, still in her underwear. Kiyoko's back is turned on her as she prepares coffee.

"Good morning, Hitoka-chan."

Hitoka thinks that this time she surely must have died and gone up to sing with angels.

"Good morning, Kiyoko-san," she whispers, holding the phone close to her chest as she thanks every deity she knows.


End file.
